Instant Messaging
by writesstuff
Summary: It takes Puck 10 days to show Kurt he's awesome, 9 to lure Kurt in, and 1 to get his point across.


**Instant ****Messaging**

**Pairing: Puckurt**

**This was written on tumblr, like always, for a prompt for Sushi Chi (As she's known on here, on there it's Obliqueoptimism). The prompt was AIM,**** and I know the prompt is AIM, but I honestly barely know how to use AIM and whatnot, so yahoo it is)**

**Summary: It takes Puck 10 days to show Kurt he's awesome, 9 to lure Kurt in, and 1 to get his point across **

* * *

><p>Puck shook all nerves from him, jumping on spot as he waited for the counter-tenor to leave the choir room. Whence noticing Kurt, he strode along beside him. "'Sup, Hummel?"<p>

"Yes, Puck?" Kurt drawled.

"You got an email, like-instant messenger?"

"Possibly." Kurt had given him a side-glance. "Why?" he asked.

Puck ignored the question. "AIM?"

"No."

"Oh, good-I don't have to make a new email...MSN?"

"No."

"Awesome, MSN sucks..." Puck trailed off. "Yahoo?"

Kurt stalled on the bottom step, before turning to Puck, "Yes, I do have it, but I'm not going to give it to you,"

Puck let out a long breath. "And why not?"

Kurt looked Puck over briefly. "Why do you want my email, anyways?" he asked, ignoring Puck's question.

"To get to know you better? Ya know people aren't always the same people you know in real life, when you're online,"

Kurt crinkled his nose, "Yes, I know," he minutely remembered an occurrence with Blaine once upon a time ago. Mentally shuddering, he looked to Puck once more. "You'll have to guess my yahoo, as I will not just hand it out to anyone," he turned on his heel and walked away.

"That's bull!" Puck called after him, but made no move to follow.

**0-0**

Puck sat at his computer-an old dinosaur of a thing, but it ran smooth enough-and stared at his empty yahoo. Finn wasn't online, neither was Artie, Mike, Sam, or any of the other guys from football, but he suspected that was because they-the guys from football-blocked him, rather than actually not being online. Or were on a different messenger-ignoring that, though.

_What the hell is his email?_ It took him nearly the whole evening of brainstorming, and thinking, before he typed in an email he was sure to be right.

**-0-**

Kurt stared at his screen as the contact request came up. "Puckasaurus, really?" he clicked accept, and typed into a conversation screen, _How did you figure out my email? And what is up with your name?_

_**Fuck ya! got it rite!**_

Kurt cringed at the spelling, and everything wrong with the writing before gingerly typing out, _Give me a reason not to block you now, Puck_.

_**...Imma friend and awesum?** _

_Yes. As awesome as your spelling, I assume._

_**Fuck u dude-u can still understand me** _

Kurt cringed once more, he had him there... _Fine, you're right. So tell me why you wanted my email in the first place?_

**0-0**

Puck thought for a bit longer than necessary. **_To get my mack on ya_**. He could just _see_ Kurt's reaction. Shock, choking on his own spit, the whole nine yards!

_What?_

_**Yup, I'mma bout to seduce ya via internet.** _

**-0-**

Kurt stared at his screen, jaw slack. "What?" He signed out of his messenger, and pushed the laptop off his lap, onto the bed. "That couldn't be right," he mumbled, shaking his head. "Right, can't be right-should go to bed..." he put his laptop onto the floor, climbing under his covers and closing his eyes, the last thought from him was, "Puck's gone crazy."

_The next morning_, Kurt awoke to find 10 emails. All from Puck. All variations of poems, songs, and even a video clip of him singing. Kurt stared at his keyboard, wondering why he even opened the emails.

The emails continued to come in, and Kurt continued to open them, rather than blocking the other boy like he said he would.

Day 2, had 9 emails that contained a cheesy e-card from Valentine's day, 3 poems, a page of song lyrics, another page of song lyrics, a picture of Puck with a teddy bear-completely cheesy but made Kurt smile like a loon, a picture from paint that was child-like and amusing, and a single line-further investigation showed it was a quote-of romanticism.

Day 3, had 8 emails; 2 poems, 4 e-cards that made him laugh, a video of Puck singing Lucky-by himself, and a virtual bouquet.

Day 4, had 7 emails; one was a link to a youtube video about an experiment consisting of fabrics, a clip from Jacob Ben Israel's blog that showed his winning kick from the football game he had, and the assorted poems, and a link that went to an external site he wasn't trusting.

Day 5, had 6 emails. He read every single poem, every song lyric-even downloaded a few of the songs, passed and present-and when he got to the final email of the day, he stared at the e-card. It was a teddy bear-much like the one in the first picture Puck had sent him-that held a board in front of it with **_K+N_** on it, while blowing the screen kisses. Kurt was in middle of laughing, and being touched, when Finn walked in, causing him to close the laptop quickly.

"What's on your computer...?" Finn had a dirty grin on his face. Something Kurt wasn't accustomed to.

"Nothing, what do you want?"

Finn shrugged. "You got anything to eat? Mom's not cooking until later, and I'm starving,"

"It's Saturday." Kurt deadpanned at him. "Your mom is at work right now."

"Oh yeah..." Finn seemed thoughtful. "Can you cook me something?"

Kurt crinkled his nose, weighing the pros and cons of getting out of bed. When he realized he'd rather not have the house burn down, than worry about bedhead, he made up his mind, "Very well..." he stood. "Eggs and toast fine?"

"Can we have some Canadian bacon?" Kurt rolled his eyes, nodding. "Awesome!"

After those 5 days of emails, Kurt noticed a pattern. It was a countdown. A countdown for what, he didn't know. It wasn't until he had gotten to day nine, and down to 2 emails, that he confronted Puck, after glee club was over. "Okay,_what_ are you going to send me tomorrow?"

"I don't know what you mean,"

Kurt's nostrils flared. "That's bull, and you know it,"

Puck just smirked. "You'll have to guess, I suppose," he shrugged, walking around Kurt and out the door.

**...0...**

Kurt fidgeted in his seat as he waited for his email to load. To say he was nervous was an understatement. After staring at his screen, at the empty inbox, he stood from the bed, closed the laptop, and left for school. He was a bit let down, really. If he was honest, the last 9 days had been very thoughtful, sweet, and even romantic. He was definitely looking forward to his 10th, and final day-or at least, what he thought was his final day-the pattern was definitely there. He briefly wondered if Puck noticed the pattern.

He crinkled his nose as he entered the school. He had thought of all these different scenarios with Puck and the final day, but none of them happened. The most dirty he supposed was Puck sending him something pornographic-something he'd have to have given Puck a good talking to for-and the most innocent was the teddy bear, given to him in front of his locker.

When Puck was obviously_-blatantly_-avoiding him, he figured he'd just give up. Day 10 was a giant let-down to the romantic in him. He sulked the rest of the day, dragging himself passed the jocks, and to his Navigator. In no mood to deal with holier-than-thou jocks, he quickly started the truck and drove off school grounds.

It took him another half hour to reach home, as he felt like going for a drive to pep himself up. Calling out to an empty house, he rolled his eyes and ascended the stairs, dragging himself to his room, ready to blast his music and relax in the tub.

Not happening, he supposed, looking at Puck lying on his bed. Naked, it looked like. All except for the thin sheet across his hips.

Kurt bit his bottom lip, face having turned cherry red. "What are you doing?" he was too far into his embarrassed shock to care his voice rose higher than it usually did.

Puck smiled lazily at him. "Happy 10th day!" he said brightly, throwing his arms up. Kurt merely stared at him. "This is where you strip and decide to ravish me...?"

Kurt shook his head slowly. "I don't ravish...and..." he choked on his words. "What are you doing?"

"This is the final day,"

"I know, but-well..." Kurt trailed off, "This is highly uncomfortable..."

Puck's eyebrows drew together as he sat up, pushing the sheet off-ignoring Kurt's squeak and covering of his eyes-and asked, "Why?"

"I'm not a sexual-_put some pants on_!"

"I've got boxers on, Princess,"

Kurt looked over briefly, lowering his hand, "I'm not a sexual person-you lying about my bed like-like...some Greek god, is a bit disconcerting,"

Puck grinned, "Greek god?"

"Don't act like you didn't know," Kurt snapped, walking forward slowly, and sinking onto his bed beside Puck. "I liked the romantic things you did over email-I was very touched, and pleased by it, in fact," he twisted his fingers awkwardly. "And...I'm not very sexy,"

Puck's eyebrows rose in confusion. "Bull spit-you're like...sexier than me, and that's saying something,"

Kurt stared at his lap, "What?"

"You're sexier than me,"

"I heard you, I was confused as to how you meant, however."

Puck leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and hand cupping his chin. "Bad Romance-fucking sexy," he said.

"Singing." Kurt countered.

"Alright-when you strut down the hall, all I can hear is that Adam Lambert song,"

"Strut?"

"That's the one-you're sexy as fuck, dude,"

Kurt smiled slightly. "I'm a baby penguin,"

"Welp...baby penguins are sexy, then," Kurt had laughed. "Okay, literal baby penguins aren't-they're adorable; figurative ones-like you-are hot and sexy...'specially when they're confident and stuff,"

"I'm not all that confident, though,"

Puck frowned. "The Kurt I know is-you just gotta forget all that shit they told you at Dalton,"

Kurt looked to Puck, semi-glare in place, "I was happy there," Puck merely raised an eyebrow. "I was happy...ish...and I was safe!"

"Ish..." Puck nodded, "Yes, that speaks loads," he rolled his eyes. "Alright then-you want romantic? Go to the kitchen, and look in the fridge,"

Kurt groaned. "Do I have to? It took me enough energy to come up the stairs..."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Fine. You get comfortable here-like...lay down or something, and I'll be back with the stuff,"

Kurt crinkled his nose as Puck walked out, "It better not be something like lube!"

"Ah, don't worry," Puck said as he left. Whence he returned, Kurt was lying on the bed, legs crossed with a magazine in hand. Puck sat heavily onto the bed, watching in amusement as Kurt bounced.

"Don't do-are those chocolate covered strawberries?"

Puck grinned, "Yup," he held one up to Kurt's lips. "Open,"

Kurt obeyed, letting out an appreciative sound. "These are good," he said as he swallowed.

Puck grinned. "So, Kurt. Will you go out with me?"

Kurt took another bite of the strawberry in Puck's hand, looking thoughtful as he chewed. When finished chewing and swallowing, he opened his mouth, only to take another strawberry and eat it.

Puck watched him, not amused. He did it twice more. What got him to answer was Puck tackling him over onto the bed, causing them to fall off the side, and kissing him. That got him to answer with a laugh. "Yes, yes, okay-just...lay off the surprise kisses?"

Puck pouted but nodded, "Why, though?"

"Bit jaded about them,"

"Care to explain?"

"Not at the present moment, no,"

Puck frowned, but nodded, "Fine, but you will tell me, right?"

Kurt thought it over, nodding slightly after a second, "If the relationship escalates to it,"

"Fair enough," Puck had frowned once more. "Can I kiss you again?"

Kurt nodded, smiling.


End file.
